


Eating the World and All of Its Sins

by Mothrianna



Category: Naruto
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Drug Use, F/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Content, Multi, Rating May Change, a little domestic abuse, a lot of sad, but happy ending, stupid teenagers and their decisions, will add a lot more characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-25
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-14 15:58:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2197908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mothrianna/pseuds/Mothrianna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Comforting…” He snorted at this. Her cute naivety made him laugh. “You of all people should know that this place is anything but comforting at this time of night.” <br/>	She sighed. <br/>	“I know what you’re saying. And I wish I could say that you’re wrong. But you aren’t. This place should be everything but comforting at this time of night. Especially to me…” <br/>	“But yet, you stupidly throw yourself into danger every night.” <br/>	“Not every night… But most. I’m well aware of the danger. I know that in this city, that this hour is when the most insidious of crimes take place. I know that there are gangs out there and pimps and other people of the like. But I have something to reassure me.” <br/>	He was a little hesitant to ask. There was something off about her, he could sense. Not dangerous or ominous. But certainly off. This girl was strange. But then again, he was in no position to call anyone strange. He was just as strange as she was. Just as stupid. Almost just as naive. <br/>	“What is that?” He asked her. <br/>	She laughed. Her eyes lit up once more, as if elated that he'd actually asked. “I have a cat’s nine lives.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

     “What are you doing?”

     She jumped as if she’d been burnt. The can fell to the ground noisily, startling the quiet of the night. She had the widest doe eyes he’d ever seen. Not even the deer themselves could quite make that face. But yet, she seemed to wear it well. Ridiculously, but well. She pressed herself flush against the dirty brick wall of the building, hoping to disappear through it like a ghost. But still, she was faced by his hard eyes and the dark night.

     She mentally slapped herself and forced an answer. “Nothing. Minding my own business.” Her voice hilariously shook as she spoke.

     He looked at the wall behind her, how she protectively hovered before it. A beautiful work of art, he had to admit. White and black, strictly, with only a single bit of red. A scaled fish, some sort of koi, engulfing the world with its gaping lips. Or either expunging it, it could’ve been seen from both perspectives. And that was the real beauty behind it, the duality of what he was saying. There was a whimsical quality to it that enamored him. He liked it.

     However…

     “This was my wall.” He said, eyes narrowing to dangerous slits. She seemed very small underneath his gaze. Small and insignificant. And she didn’t know what to say. Her round little cheeks lit up with anger, unnoticeable in the dim orange glow of the street lamps. “Your wall?” Her tone grew incredulous. “Your wall? How could it be your wall? It’s neither of our wall, so you truly have no right to claim it.” He clicked his tongue in annoyance, a little habit he’d picked up over the years. “Then what gives you the right?”

     “First come, first served.” She quickly snapped. She stooped to grab her can of paint, and in that moment, all the annoyance and frustration that had built up within him throughout the day almost overflowed. He almost grabbed her by the hair and bashed her skull into the wall. He almost called her every derogatory term he could think of, but he didn’t. He stopped himself. Because he wasn’t raised in a barn. His parents sucked, but they taught him something. Never was he allowed to ever raise a hand to a woman, no matter how insufferable. He tagged buildings. He drank and smoked. He’d do anything. But never would he ever hit a girl.

     He watched her shake the can of red paint, sighing when she realized it was almost empty. She vigorously shook and sprayed, making her little trademark signature underneath the masterpiece. “XVI” it read.

     She almost felt his stare boring into his head.

     She was an easily guilty child, and though there was no real reason for her to feel bad for any reason whatsoever, she did anyway. So she sighed, turned her big brown eyes upon him in the darkness of the October night, and reassuringly smiled. So out of place. Such a sweet-looking girl, surprisingly going around and illegally tagging buildings belonging to others.

     “You know… If it would make you feel any better, I know a place that’s just as good as this one. It’s a block over from this one. And it faces the street, so a lotta people would see it…”

     He stared at her for a bit, and internal debate raging in his brain. It was almost an eternity before he snorted. “Fine…” He said, deflating as he agreed to follow her to wherever.

     And that’s how the unlikely friendship began.

 

 

     It was cold, yet she didn’t seem to mind in her tattered, torn jeans. She smelled of canned paint and night air. She had white all over her fingers, which he knew from experience would be hell to wash off. She would occasionally look over her shoulder, to make sure he was still following her. And those curious eyes seemed so dark in the dim light. It was surprising that they hadn’t been spotted. It was well after curfew, and someone like her would attract instant attention. She definitely didn’t look old enough to be out alone at such an hour.

     “So what is your usual?” She asked. “Do you paint? Do you put up posters? Or…”

     “Stencils and painting.” He answered.

     “Ah. That’s cool. I’ve always thought that stencils were really neat. But I’m a strictly painting type. Sometimes I do posters.”

     “Hn…” Was all he could muster to keep up with the girl’s talkativeness. She stuffed her little hands into her pockets, hurriedly shuffling down the sidewalk of the sleeping city. It was so surreal, seeing Konoha like this. The hours between two and six were always like this, slow and crawling. Only a few cars would dare break the dull laze that fell over the downtown area. It was Sunday morning and people were preparing themselves for the lazy Sunday before them. And this was what he loved about it, though he’d never say it aloud. There was something magical about it, how the city seemed to retreat into itself like a sleeping flower, then bloom once again once the sun first touched the sky.

     “I used to be so nervous out here…” She started. “I guess you can say that I still am, whenever I come out here. You can probably tell that I really have no business being out here around this time of night.” She was right about that. Bad things happened to girls like her. And while knowing this, she still stupidly ventured out to paint little pictures. “But still, I love doing this… I love it more than I love myself, I guess.” She said matter of factly, as if she’d already accepted the fact. She jumped from that subject to the next. “There! This is the place.” She stopped just before a doorway. An old abandoned corner of a building. He wasn’t sure what it was supposed to be, or what it once was, but she was right when she said that it was perfect. There was a brick wall facing the street that could be easily seen.

     It was perfect. He’d have to put everything he had into this one.

     He wordlessly accepted the spot, shrugging off his backpack and taking out his paint. And soon, he was working on something grand. She murmured a little, snarky “your welcome.” It went unheard.

     The coincidence of it all was uncanny. But she just assumed that it was fate. His stencil was so peculiarly similar to her own painting that she’d just done, but yet, there was something more ominous about it. Her fish was giving birth to the world. That’s what was happening. Giving life. Yet, his own raven sat atop it, talons digging into the world, drawing wells of the blood of millions. Yet, it was a stunning image. And his process was strange, yet mystifying. How he laid down white, then added detail with black. How the hell did he do that? How did he make that work?

     “That’s great.” She murmured, mystified by what she saw. He didn’t look at her, still looking over the wall before him. “You’re still here.” She realized her blunder and nervously laughed, a pitiful little noise. “My bad. I’m just kind of lingering now. I’ve got nothing more to do.” She turned her eyes back to the raven. “For how long have you been doing this? You’re good.”

     And for once, he humored the conversation. He’d burn a little time as well, since he didn’t really feel like returning home himself. “Since my freshman year of high school… About five years.” He said. She smiled at him knowingly. “Yeah. I can tell. You’re great.” She looked back to the raven. “It’s so eerie, you know? And I love it.”

     A beat of silence. A lull in conversation. She let out a tired yawn and glanced at her phone. 3:03…      

     “How long have you been doing this?” He asked out of curiosity. “I started my freshman year, too. Four years… I guess you’re my senior.” He fell quiet, but gave a little nod. He could tell. She wasn’t bad either. He began to wonder what other works the girl could’ve been responsible for. There were many things around the city that could be easily seen. Some of them could’ve very well have been hers.

      “Well… I gotta go. I need to be getting some sleep soon.” She said, giving a little wave and a bashful smile. “See ya.” He nodded. And just like that, they parted ways.

 

 

     Three weeks later, he’d found himself to be in a similar situation. But this time, the girl was nowhere to be found. She’d only left a single melancholic scene as evidence of her presence. A little somber for a person like her. But then again, what did he know? He’d only spoken to her once.

     Yet, somehow, he didn’t expect her to turn around and paint such a powerful thing. It was remarkable, he admitted.

     He’ll let this time slide. He could find another place.

     He began to walk. Just a bit after midnight, and there was nowhere for him to go and nothing for him to do. There was still a little life on the streets. Konoha was a bustling city, wide and lively. But yet, he yearned for those little hours in the dark morning. Those are what he truly desired. Where he felt the most at ease.

     Maybe he’d go stop at the 24/7 diner. He’d go home after that. Yes, he was just killing time, but it didn’t really matter at this point.

     The diner he sought out was one of his favorite haunts, and he’d become a regular, only coming in at this particular time of night. He’d become used to seeing the familiar faces every now and then. And he didn’t really mind them. One of the waiters was a friend of his older brother. And though he’d never really spoken to Deidara much, he truly appreciated the silent oath of secrecy between them. Sasuke didn’t mention his second job that would surely worry his friends to no end, Deidara didn’t say anything about his late night endeavors.

     It was like a beacon in the middle of the dimly lit night. And she sat there, swaddled by the harsh fluorescent lights of the diner, not by the window, but closer to the center aisle, munching on fries and staring into space, a sketchbook not too far from her.

     He didn’t mind this. In fact, an odd curiosity pushed him to enter the diner and head straight for her. He wanted to see the sketchbook.

     She started a bit when he scooped up the book and began to flip through it. Yet, for some odd reason, she didn’t completely lose her shit. She gave a little smile and laughed. “You again. You could’ve easily asked.” He shrugged and continued on, looking at the pages before him, a surreal mix of both chaotic, melancholic, and purely whimsical little pictures and sketches. Fish and deer. Flowers and gore. Anatomical practices and scribbled doodles. It felt almost wrong, as if looking through someone’s diary. As if looking through her mind. Like he wasn’t supposed to see it. It was almost like his own sketchbook. Windows into a frenzied soul.

     “You’re better than I thought…”

     She blushed, though she didn’t want to. She wasn’t used to such praise.

     “So you eat here, too?” She asked. He nodded. “I see. It’s a cool place. But this is the best time to be here, when all the people leave. Nice and quiet.” She gestured to the seat across from her, offering for him to sit. “Wanna take a seat? It would be weird for you to take a seat way over in Timbuktu. Might as well make Deidara’s life a little easier.” In reality, she was just itching for someone to talk to. She didn’t really talk to anyone these days. And it was pleasant to finally have the chance once again.  

      He relented, sliding slowly into the leather-seated booth.

     “You sign your paintings ‘XVI’.” He stated, hoping to spark up a conversation with the odd girl. She leaned on a hand, inspecting a French fry before absently eating it. “Sixteen. That’s what it means.” And she left it at that. He wanted to inquire further, but he wouldn’t let himself ask. But after a little contemplating, she went on and told. “Sixteen seems to be a magical number in my family. That’s when I had my epiphany. My ‘aha!’ moment. That’s when my mom had me, and decided to clean herself up. It’s when my grandmother ‘found herself.’ When my cousin was finally declared cancer-free. I was even born on the sixteenth of March. And there’s a crap ton of other things that involve that number that you wouldn’t really care to know. Just know that it is a significant number to me.” There was something a little off about the way she ate her fries. Something that bothered him, how she toyed with her food. She’d barely taken a bite of anything.

     “And you. I’ve seen what you’ve done around the city. Ravens, anger and ‘Venge-K.’” She gave a short little laugh. “Why all the rage?” And there was a contemplative lull to her voice and a sly little smile as she mulled over yet another fry. “Why not the rage?” He asked. “Music is dead, all movies are sequels, and there are days when we still revert to 1932. What is there to not be pissed about?” She laughed, looking up at him through her long-lashes. “Okay. The other stuff I can’t argue with. But music? Music’s not dead. What makes you say that?” He shot her a look. “Oh really?” It said. “You are misinterpreting music, my friend.” She said. “It can’t die. It’ll never die. Like all art. Death is a god and he only comes for things that breathe.”

     “Poetic.” His tone was sarcastic, of course.

    “No, really. I know that the music coming out now isn’t all that great… But we always have the past and its endless reservoirs of variety. There’s so much to find. And the internet makes it easy for us. So you shouldn’t dwell on the dry spell of the present. Just look into the past.” She drank a little of her lemonade. And for the first time, in the harsh light of the diner, he realized something that he couldn’t that night three weeks ago. That she was gorgeous, even if there were traces of gashes disappearing under her sleeves, and holes in her jeans. Even if the crude, dark, band t-shirt that she’d probably had since the sixth grade hid her body and draped loosely over her frame. Even if the light in her eyes seemed a little duller and sadder than the other night.

     “Personally,” She started. “I think that there are a few gems that still show themselves every now and then. A few guilty pleasures.”

     “Like what?”

     She grew a little bashful… “Like the Birthday Massacre.” There was a muffled “oh my god” from him, and she laughed. “I know. Teenage girl music. But I love it. And you shouldn’t give up hope so easily…” She paused, made a face, then continued. “What is your name, anyway? I don’t think we’ve ever truly… Introduced ourselves.” She smiled that infallible smile once again. “I’m Xira.”

     “Sasuke.” And before she could reply, the door to the kitchen swung open. There was a flurry of blonde hair and frustration that seemed to fade into surprise once the two teens were found. “Oh. Look what the cat dragged in…” But there was a hilarious mixture of confusion and mock contempt in his voice. Deidara was a little surprised to see his friend’s little brother and the little angel that always visited sitting together.

     “What are you two crazy kids up to?” He asked, approaching the table. He eyed the untouched plate before the girl and narrowed his deep, blue eyes. “You need to eat.” He told her. She seemed to deflate. “Yes, mother. I’m working on it. Damn.” But there was humor in her voice.

      “But for real, aren’t you two aware that there is a curfew for minors? Cops come around here around this time. You two could get caught.” There was genuine concern in his voice. Sasuke shrugged. “I’m eighteen…” He told him. Deidara gave a little “oh”, then turned to Xira for her answer. She shrugged in turn. “Eh… No one cares. All they do is take you back to your parents and do mine care? No. So where’s the problem?” Deidara rolled his eyes. “It’s your funeral… Just make sure you eat something before you finally go.”

     “Yes, mom. I’ll do that.” She bit another fry. “Happy?”

     “Yes. I am. Keep doing that.” He turned to Sasuke. “Want anything?” He asked. Sasuke requested his usual, which was basically the same thing the girl ate. He’d forgotten to eat before he left the house, so of course, he was starving at that moment. “Coming right up.” Once again, he disappeared behind into the kitchen.

     She sighed, avoiding Sasuke’s gaze. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m eating aren’t I?”

     “You know Deidara?” She shrugged. “You can say that. About a few months ago, I started eating here every other night. And I guess you could say that he kind of took me under his wing. He looks out for me.” He nodded his understanding and let the silence take the wheel. He stared over the line of booths, through the window that separated them from the cold night.

      “I love this city…” She said, bringing his attention back to her. It was more to herself, rather than another opening for conversation. “I like how it does sleep, unlike other places. It’s kinda eerie, but a bit comforting.”

     “Comforting…” He snorted at this. Her cute naivety made him laugh. “You of all people should know that this place is anything but comforting at this time of night.”

     She sighed.

     “I know what you’re saying. And I wish I could say that you’re wrong. But you aren’t. This place should be everything but comforting at this time of night. Especially to me…”

     “But yet, you stupidly throw yourself into danger every night.”

      “Not every night… But most. I’m well aware of the danger. I know that in this city, that this hour is when the most insidious of crimes take place. I know that there are gangs out there and pimps and other people of the like. But I have something to reassure me.”

     He was a little hesitant to ask. There was something off about her, he could sense. Not dangerous or ominous. But certainly off. This girl was strange. But then again, he was in no position to call anyone strange. He was just as strange as she was. Just as stupid. Almost just as naïve.

     “What is that?” He asked her.

     She laughed. Her eyes lit up once again, as if elated that he’d actually asked. “I have a cat’s nine lives.”


	2. Chapter 2

The smile she gave him almost proved it, rivalling that of the Cheshire cat’s and eyes that were obviously elated as if they’d seen the secrets of the universe. But she may very well have. He was almost certain that this girl wasn’t just any human being. He was almost afraid to ask further, but it was past midnight and he had nowhere to go and barely a home to go back to. There was nothing more for him than the secrets and mysteries of the Konoha nights and this girl was one of them. With all of the world’s joy in her face, as if whatever she spoke of was the best thing to ever happen to her. 

“What do you mean by that?” He asked.

“I mean that I’m the luckiest girl you’ll probably ever meet.”

“I thought that cats were unlucky.” 

“Only the black ones…” She replied.

Sasuke merely looked at her, brow raised with a little mirth. And she caught on to his little joke, laughing as if she hadn’t even seen it coming. “You little shit! Look who actually has a sense of humor.” She good naturedly admitted that she set herself up for the joke, still vaguely surprised that he managed to make her laugh. Even he managed to let out a little snort. 

“So is that the reason for your most recent wall-snatching?” He asked. “Yet again, you managed to swipe another from under me.” She laughed. “Again? Wow. I guess great minds think alike.” 

“You’re a thief.” But yet, for the first time in weeks, his tone was really good-natured. “I don’t try! You know that.” She ate another fry. “And you’ve already seen it? What do you think?” He sat back in his seat. “It’s great…” He admitted. She clasped excited little hands on her cheeks, lighting up with joy. “You think so! Wait- Why do I get the feeling that you don’t say that often?” 

“Because I don’t.” And it was the truth. But he had to admit, that scene was wonderful. “Well, thank you. I’m flattered. Really, I am. But yeah, I guess you can say that. It definitely has something to do with it.” Deidara finally reappeared with a plate of food, setting it down just before Sasuke, who murmured a little “thanks”. Deidara did a little double take, for any polite gestures from the Uchiha were almost unheard of. But then, he saw Xira, and realized something he thought he’d never see in his life. Xira’s glowing little cheeks and joy-filled gaze. Sasuke’s apprehension to look her directly in the eyes, suddenly finding his plate to be the most interesting thing in the planet. 

Deidara held his tongue, even though the smile on his lips said it all. It was great that the two had hardly notice, for they would’ve easily caught on. He retreated back to the door leading to the kitchen, “I’ll be back here if you need me.” He told them. Alright, they replied, soon returning to their conversation. 

Deidara couldn’t help but let out a little laugh. He could almost hear Hidan’s words from a year ago. “You can’t go and be a fucking matchmaker for everyone. Who the hell do you think you are?” Deidara snorted. Watch me, he thought. Just like how Hidan and Kakuzu met. Just like how Deidara himself met Sasori. Or how Itachi met Kisame. This block alone was magical. Always bringing people together. Now it was playing its little tricks on the two sitting outside, and once things were in motion, it was hard to stop. 

This diner would be a haven. A bubble for the two of them alone. And Deidara would make sure that it would stay that way. Xira deserved it. She’d seen enough hell already. She deserved something nice. Finally. 

 

After eating and a long conversation about cats, pitbulls, the 90s, super giants, government conspiracies and the world. They went from thing to thing to thing with no real signs of stopping. And by two thirty, Sasuke had the odd feeling one had when they’d known a friend for a while without truly knowing them. She’d shared enough about himself to infer little things about her personality and her many likes and dislikes, but not enough to truly call himself close. After all, it was just their second meeting. 

They finally left the diner, opting to give her painting a final once over before calling it a night. She stopped just before it. It all started with a cat, and went down the wall as it went through a transformation into a young woman. A street-walker, actually, with a painted face and a Versace bag. And there was something about it. Something oddly personal about the whole piece. But he didn’t ask. He felt that it was enough that it was plastered upon the wall for all to see. 

“This is the first time I’ve done anything like this…” She started. “It seems a little… Personal.” And she left it at that. 

He didn’t go any further than the corner of 73rd Street and Winterpine Boulevard. He had to go straight. She had to turn left. She lived close, she said, so she should be home in no time. “That’s good.” He said. And before she could remark on how odd she thought that he showed genuine concern, he quickly countered. “You should save one of those nine lives for when it counts.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” And she was off, blushing a little in the darkness about how he had inadvertently told her in his own words to “stay safe.” 

 

 

The third time they met, he noticed the even smaller things. Like her long eyelashes that dusted her cheeks and the smug grin that teemed with humor to seemed to only rise when he swung by. She was painting something new. On the side of the women’s shelter. And he only saw its beginnings, but something told him that it was another like the streetwalker piece. Something beautiful, but with meaning. Little birds, taking off into flight. That’s all she had at the moment. She must’ve just started. 

“’Sup.” She greeted after seeing him saunter up. “Hey…” His greeting was just as short. He watched her work. Her little hands flew, can in hand, creating beautiful things. A beautiful thing creating   
another beautiful thing. “There you go again, being a man of few words. What brings you out here tonight, traveler?” She was full of life, like always. He humored her. “I wish to know the secrets to the universe.” He answered. She chuckled softly, shaking the white can. “The secrets to the universe, huh. Why ‘to’? I myself, would like to know the secrets of.” He smirked. “Is there a difference?” He asked. A little shrug and a crooked smile. “Yes. You say the secrets to. As if you’ve got a goal in mind. Those words have got some ambition behind them. But then, again, you do seem the ambitious type.” 

“Do I really?” She nodded. “Yeah. You kinda have this… Look in your eyes.” She smirked at him, animatedly passing him to get to the backpack on the opposite wall of the alley. And something struck him as odd. Startling, almost. Maybe she thought he wouldn’t see it. Maybe she thought that the darkness would hide it. But he had keen eyes. Things didn’t get by him so easily. So of course, he saw that as she passed him, a large, dark bruise painted her left cheek. Big and grotesque, marring her girlish face. 

She continued on as if it were nothing, animated as ever like a little wind-up doll. She’d probably never wind down. 

It had been two weeks since he’d last seen her. And there had been something he’d been meaning to ask her. It had been lying in wait, in the back of his mind. 

“You said that you had an ‘aha’ moment when you turned sixteen.” He asked. 

“And I did….” 

“What was it?” 

She stopped, put her hands on her hips, and turned her attention up towards the painted birds. “It was when I found it all out.” She smiled again. “When I stopped looking for the secrets to the universe and starting looking for the secrets of.” She shot him a smug look. There she went, being a little enigma once again. 

“I don’t even think it’s even possible to be any vaguer.” He remarked. She shrugged and laugh. “I don’t think there’s any possible way to explain it. It’s up to you to figure out what it means.” 

For a moment, a look of incredulity crossed his face before he continued. “Okay, oh wise one with your cryptic messages, have you even come across any secrets yourself?”

She nervously smiled. 

“Not really. No…” 

He stared at her. 

“But at least that makes us even?” She laughed. And he couldn’t help but smirk as she laughed. “You’re full of shit.” 

“Aren’t we all?” 

“You’re just full of more of it than others.” 

“Stop that!” She threw a clean paintbrush at him. Another smile and grinning eyes. The bruise seemed even darker. 

He couldn’t bring himself to let it go. He wasn’t one to pry. But she seemed perfectly fine, smiling and carrying on as if it weren’t even there. He had to ask. He couldn’t stop himself.

“What’s with the bruise…?” He asked before he could have any second thoughts and immediately regretted it, though he wouldn’t show it. Her laughter died. Her smile faded. And suddenly, she was very self-conscious of the blackened mark on her cheek. Her fingers brushed the skin, gingerly prodding at it. “You’re not the type to be afraid of asking, either…” She was hesitant to answer. But she had the most peculiar train of thoughts. She figured that Sasuke wasn’t the type to interfere with the lives of others. So she didn’t mind sharing, even if it was a misfortunate tale. 

“Don’t worry about it,” She said. “I just had a… Disagreement with someone.” She couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye, turning her back and finishing up the picture before her. His gaze burned through her. There wasn’t anything like pity or compassion in his eyes. Nothing at all. She seemed fine, oddly. He strangely felt that she could hold her own against anyone. 

She laughed. “Don’t worry about it. Really.” She said. “Trust me,” She signed her signature and capped the can, stuffing it into her backpack. “I fought back. He has a black eye himself that he has to wear to work tomorrow. So, shall we go?” 

“Go where?” Though he inadvertently began to follow her out to the street without being conscious of it, walking alongside her down the orange-lit street. “Let’s walk the Strip.” He stopped, thought about it and how the other’s mentioned some kind of even that was happening in that area, and agreed to go along with her, claiming that he “had nothing else to do.” 

 

Their city neared the coast, meaning that it possessed, like most beach towns, a long block of stores and buildings dedicated to beach life, family fun, and night-endeavors for the young and bored. Beach bums populated the place year round, while tourists flocked during the summer. It was a very lively area. It never truly slept, like most downtown areas. Sometime, this was often considered the downtown of their city. The more “urban” area where young people mingled. Festivals were held here. Events as well. Sometimes concerts. 

“There must be something going on.” She noted. “It seems especially busy tonight.” She raked her fingers through her hair, covering the bruise just so. The shop lights bathed the entirety of the strip with light. Beautiful light. Music and sounds filled the cool night air. They passed dozens upon dozens of faces as they walked with no particular destination in mind. They were far from lost. They knew where they were. Just not where they were going. Just the same as the other young people that roamed the Strip at night. There wasn’t any particular destination in mind. Just teenage boredom and an itch for something new and exciting. 

“I keep forgetting that this is a beach city.” She said more to herself than him. She craned her neck to see the neon lights and signs for shops selling bathing suits, surfboards, beach apparel, things of the like. 

“How could you forget?” He asked. “There are beach rats crawling up and down these streets. The tans speak for themselves…” 

They walked on, intermingling with the anonymity of the Konoha nightlife. And of course, people stared. Perhaps at his handsome-faced, brooding stare. Maybe at the darkened bruise that marred her pretty face. She didn’t care. He didn’t care. That’s what the streets did to you. It made you stop caring about the thoughts of others. It provided a mentality that, no matter what you did, said, or looked like, you’d never see these people again and vice versa. And when she pointed it out, he couldn’t help but agree. It was something he’d noticed when he was only fourteen. 

“I don’t know why, but it feels like,” She sipped from her midnight smoothie, a concoction of strawberries, bananas, mangoes and more. “I feel like anxiety means nothing in a setting like this. Because not only is there the night making it hard to see. But it’s like… There’s always something more to see. So I feel invisible. Because why will anyone want to watch me in a scene like this…?” 

He couldn’t bring himself to mention that she’d be surprise the attention she drew with that smile of hers. 

And just like that, he had an odd thought. Maybe she was killing time. Maybe she didn’t want to return home. 

But then again, he didn’t either. So they had a mutual desire to walk the lonely streets.

So they walked and talked. Laughed smugly at drunken party-goers (some of which Sasuke recognized as peers). They talked about the cryptic secrets of the universe and the dying media and music groups they fancied. They talked about art and the world. Venice and Rio. The Sistine Chapel and the Hanging Gardens of Babylon. About South Africa and China and places that filled their hearts   
with inspiration and awe. Bengal tigers and aesthetic tattoos. And then she stopped in her tracks, shot him a marvelous smile rivalling that of the love child of an angel and succubus. 

“I want one…” She said and pointed to the parlor across the street. How convenient, he thought. 

“Want what?” He knew the answer. 

“A tattoo, of course. I’m pointing right at it.” 

“What are you going to get?” He asked. 

“Take a guess…” She tilted her head, as if it was a given. And he had to admit that it was. He should’ve known. And with that, she was off, crossing the street with only one thing on her mind. 

But he’d forgotten, of course, until he reached the doors, that of course he knew the person who did the tattoos here. And lo and behold, there went Hidan, finishing up on one drunken customer’s mistake. Oh, Kakuzu was there too. Oh, but still, it got better. There was his brother, impassively sitting there in his little chair that he loitered in. The whole damn enchilada. 

She smiled brightly when she saw Deidara. She snapped and double-pistoled. “Aaaaayyyyy.” She said. He returned it, mimicking her actions, leaving Sasuke to wonder how close the two actually were. 

“What are you two doing here?” He asked from his spot on the counter. His expression turned suspicious. “Wait. Don’t tell me…” And she nodded. “Yep. I wanna tattoo. I’ve got the money so let’s do it before I chicken out.” 

Deidara crossed his arms, eyes shining like a disapproving parental figure. “Whaaaaaht?” 

“You’re not going to get anything stupid, are you?” He asked, and before she could answer, he turned to Sasuke. “What is she getting? A cat?” 

“Oh, so you know?” Sasuke couldn’t help but smirk. Xira looked betrayed. “Oh shut up.” 

“A cat, huh?” Hidan moseyed up behind the counter, an all-knowing smirk plastered on his face. “So the same thing you’ve been talking about for ages? You’re finally going to get it?” She nodded. Once again, he wondered just how she came to know these people.

He shrugged. “Okay. It’s your funeral…” 

“What are you tryna say?” She asked. 

“Do you realize how much a solid tat hurts? I don’t think you can handle it…” She challenged him, crossing her arms and tilting her head. “What do you know about my pain tolerance? I can take it.”

“We’ll see soon enough. Go take a seat, shrimp.” 

And thus began the process. 

 

It was almost flattering, he realized. He mentally suggested that she might’ve just not cared enough about discretion, but he ruled it out. She was smarter than the average bear. So he was flattered. Because getting a first tattoo… It was definitely something you wouldn’t just invite anyone to witness. And maybe she was a little ahead of herself. But then again, he didn’t mind tagging along. Never once did he protest. He sat and watched, as if they’d been friends for years. Because it felt like they’d been friends for years. 

He watched as she flinched the first time the needle touched flesh. The nervous smile she wore, fading into a forced one. Her arm was thrown over her eyes as she grit her teeth and forced snarky comeback after snarky comeback. And all the while, he contributed his dry humor. He even got away with an occasional pun. “You want some cheese with that whine?” Out of character, but worth it. She had to hold in the laughter. He could’ve sworn a little mirthful tear slid down the side of her face. 

And when she was halfway through the torture, only with an outline of a prancing cat, she opted for a break. She stood, waved her arm about and bounced on her toes. But she did not falter. “That shit hurts.” She laughed. And Hidan looked at her. “You’re actually doing better than the whiny bitches I get on the daily basis. You’re doing great.”

“Really?” 

“I actually got a guy who passed out once. So yeah.” Sasuke left them to chat for a moment, remembering that his brother, in fact, was in the building. 

He was sitting in the waiting area, closer to the window, flipping through a book. He peeked up and his younger brother and smirked. “Deidara told me about you two.” He started. And of course, Sasuke thought, that Deidara would tell Itachi. “What about us two?” He asked, though his brows seemed to ask more than he. He always had a knack for expressive brows. “How do you know each other?” he successfully dodged the question. “In a dark alley in the middle of the night.” Itachi didn’t miss a beat, turning his eyes back to the pages. “Ah. That sounds like you.” 

“Does it really, brother?” 

“Sasuke. I am aware that you are, by far, the strangest child ever brought into the world with the full set of Uchiha genes. You have strange habits and I’ve come to terms with that.” 

“Shut up.” 

“Make me.” 

“How mature.” 

“I know, right?” 

Again, Itachi’s eyes shifted from the book before him, to the girl excitedly talking with the others in the shop. Smiling brightly. Yes, she seemed nice. But the bruise, however. It only reaffirmed his thoughts on her. Because something like that screamed baggage. He couldn’t help it. He shouldn’t let something like that speak for a person. He shouldn’t judge based on that, but this was Sasuke. And the last thing Sasuke needed was someone just as broken as he is. 

But he couldn’t tell him that. Sasuke would merely scowl and walk away. Sometimes, he’d even deliberately do the said thing he shouldn’t do. Because he was, as Hidan put it, a “spiteful little shit”. 

But, he had to admit, she was pretty. Even though her holey jeans and baggy tee shirt seemed a little too much like a throwback to his high school days. She was cute. And probably the only girl Sasuke liked enough to hang out with on his own accord. But Fugaku wanted only girls that were five foot five and ninety nine pounds. With polite humor and dainty laughs. They don’t curse and they dream about perfect houses filled with approximately three to five and a half children. 

But she was cute. And she was Xira. A good kid, he knew. Even if she had a few problems here and there. 

She stood up, bouncing on her little toes. “Okay! Round two!” She hopped back into the chair. 

“You’ve met her before?” Sasuke asked. “She seems so familiar with everyone.” Itachi nodded. “She’s almost always at the diner. Every time we decide to drop by, she’s there. Deidara has taken her under his wing, it seems.” And they watched her as she hissed in pain, for round two is almost more painful than starting the tattoo in the first place. And when she left, after everything was said and done and goodbyes were shared. After she had a bandaged arm and an air of accomplishment about her, Sasuke shot his brother a final glance. “See you this weekend?” he asked. Itachi nodded. “Trust me. I wouldn’t leave you to fend off the dogs alone.” And he was off. 

 

About another hour or so, it was time to leave the never-sleeping streets. And though it might not have been obvious, Xira admitted that she needed to sleep at some point. Shocker.

She lived in the nice apartments downtown. Not too big and lavish. Something that you usually saw modern families take residence in. Not too far from the schools. Not too far from the grocery store. Perfect. Locked down tight. You needed a card to get into the building. 

“You live here, huh?” He mused. “Nice place.” She laughed. “Yeah. Not too shabby, if I must say so myself.” She smiled. His eyes were filled with an odd emotion she couldn’t place. Not with the thick cover of the darkness. “What is it? Something wrong?”

He asked before he could stop himself. “You’ll be alright?” 

And for a second, she entertained an extremely foolish notion that maybe he was worried about her. Was he? She didn’t want to feed false hopes. “Yeah. I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it.” She wished him goodnight and turned to enter the building. But he, on blind impulse, asked something. Because it was their third meeting, and he felt like he knew her without knowing anything at all. Because he wanted to keep learning little things about her. Because he didn’t mind aimlessly wandering with her for hours on end. He liked talking about stain glass windows and Shangri La with her. She was witty and intelligent. And conversations with her were the greatest. 

“What’s your number?” He asked. And she gave a nervous smile. She blushed, seeming more like a teenage girl than she’s ever been, and told him her number. In turn, he told her his.

**Author's Note:**

> My first work on this website! I'm really proud of this one. Hopefully, I can finish this one all the way through and not lose my groove halfway through the plot. Hopefully. We'll see! Thanks for reading!


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